


When Was The Last Time We Closed Downtown?

by serendipityxxi



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e06 Audrey Parker's Day Off, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non permanent character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/pseuds/serendipityxxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Troubles are over. All of them. Nathan recovers his memories of the days Anson Shumway's Trouble took away. Lots of angst and cuddling ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Was The Last Time We Closed Downtown?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kedreeva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/gifts).



> Written by special request for Ked without whom none of this hurt/comfort woulda happened :) With special thanks to my betas! <3

Dwight puts down the phone and gives Nathan a weary look.

“Still not as many calls as the last time we closed downtown,” Nathan points out, a wry smile on his lips.

“When was the last time we closed downtown?” Dwight asks, scrubbing his hands down his face.

Nathan shakes his head. “Before you worked here. We closed it because Audrey said there…” Nathan’s words trail off.

“Because Audrey said?” Dwight prompts.

“Another Haven thing,” Nathan says shortly. And Dwight has seen that look enough times to understand it means a Haven thing that they are not going to talk about.

The phone rings again and Dwight answers but continues to watch Nathan while he speaks to the caller. Nathan's face is grey and he looks sick. While Dwight talks to the citizen whose day they are ruining for apparently no good reason Nathan abruptly pushes out of the chair.

“Need a minute,” he says already pulling out his cellphone as he walks out of the room.

~*~*~

 

#1 on Nathan's speed dial receives no response. Neither does #2.

He calls the Gull next but Tracey only knows Duke was supposed to have gone home.

The house phone rings and rings and rings.

Nathan knows that Duke is probably fine. He and Audrey are probably outside and can’t hear the phone. This is not the Haven it was six months ago. He _knows_ that. He pockets his cellphone and gets his hand around his badge. The metal is warm from being in his pocket and the sharp edge of the shield digging into the soft flesh of his palm hurts. This is not the same Haven it was six months ago.

He turns and heads back into the office.

~*~*~

Dwight gives him one look and shakes his head. “Go home, Nathan,” he says quietly, “I’ve got this covered.”

Six months ago Nathan might have dug his heels in and stayed, worked grimly through whatever it is that’s putting that look on his face. He probably wouldn’t have even made that phone call just now. He would have stubbornly refused to admit that there was anything wrong in the first place. He would have stayed and gotten snappy and even quieter than usual until Dwight got annoyed and they both retreated to separate corners.

They have all come a long way since then.

The counselling the town council forced on the police and other first responders has actually been helpful though Dwight is the last person who would have thought that.

He can see it now in the way Nathan’s shoulders slump at being granted permission to deal with whatever it is that’s messing him up. Not that Nathan needs Dwight’s permission but Dwight knows sometimes you need someone else to confirm things are that bad.

“Sure you got this?” Nathan asks him but his feet are already turned towards the door and Dwight smiles.

~*~*~

Nathan doesn’t run any red lights getting home.

He obeys the speed limit.

He takes the detour where they closed downtown dutifully.

It is only when he gets out and shuts the door of the Bronco that he acknowledges his hands are trembling. His stomach is twisted into a tight knot. His chest hurts with every breath he takes in.

_Duke died and Nathan forgot about it._

Duke lay on the street, run over like a stray dog, and died, and Nathan hadn’t even been able to feel him patting his hand before he did.

It seems there are still some of those Haven things waiting to pop up even though the Troubles are over. Whatever kept him from remembering Anson Shumway’s reset days is gone and Nathan hadn’t even realized it.

 _“When was the last time we closed downtown?”_ He’d reached for the memory and it hit him, hard.

Nathan _remembers now_.

Nathan remembers hearing the crash and the burst of panic that it was Audrey. The relief he’d felt when it wasn’t. The fear at the pain in her voice. He’d known then it was Duke even before he pushed through the crowd.

It all hits him again, overwhelming like a punch to the gut. His knees are weak now. He can feel his heartbeat thudding in his temples.

He remembers the the disbelief of seeing Duke laid out like that, remembers the taste of bile coating his throat, sick and bitter. The thunder of his pulse in his ears. Nathan remembers his vision greying out at the edges. His tongue had been paralyzed, laden with all the words he hadn’t been able to say. And Duke had laughed and told him to shut up like he already knew all the things Nathan had wanted to say.

But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t known any of the things Nathan wanted to tell him.

Nathan hadn’t even known all the things he’d needed to say then that he knows now.

Duke had died and Nathan hadn’t...

Nathan goes to his knees there in the front yard and vomits into the grass, bile burning his throat, bringing tears to his eyes.

Duke had died and Nathan had forgotten and he’d _joked_ about it to Audrey. _Woulda been somethin’ to see_ , echoes in his head as his stomach revolts again, a hard cramp. He hadn’t meant it, had been covering for the cold spike of fear in his gut her words had inspired but now he remembered. He remembered her frantic words and the way she’d clutched at Duke. He’d never seen Audrey Parker cry before that day. He’d forgotten that. Had seen her falling apart and struggled to keep it together for her.

Now Nathan cannot keep it together as he retches, mucus streaming from his nose, tears stinging his eyes. There is nothing left to come up, but Duke died and somehow Nathan managed to forget it. He’s been acting like things are fine, like just because the Troubles are over that means his people are any less fragile. If it wasn’t for Anson Shumway’s Trouble Duke would be dead today.

Nathan’s stomach heaves again and then there are strong hands holding onto his shoulders.

“Nate? Buddy, are you sick?” Duke’s asking concern and fear coloring his tone.

Nathan tries to answer him, but his voice hiccups and all that comes out is a deep animal sound of loss and grief. He turns and grabs hold of Duke, he’s warm and alive under Nathan’s grip. Nathan knows he's holding on too tight, too tight he can _feel his fingers digging into Duke's flesh_ but he can’t let go. He’s getting snot and tears all over Duke’s shirt and half strangling him with his grip but Duke doesn’t seem to care. He holds onto Nathan just as tight, hands anxiously patting all along his torso searching for a wound, an explanation, something. And Nathan, he can _feel_ Duke’s hands now, strong and warm and sure. He can feel the softness of Duke’s jacket beneath his hands and the warmth of Duke’s body through his sweater.

“Nathan? What’s wrong? Is it Audrey?” Duke demands, then he looks up toward the house.

“Audrey!” he bellows even as Nathan is shaking his head, pulling out of Duke’s hold.

“No,” Nathan says hoarsely. “She’s fine.” The words rasp in his abused throat, they hurt coming out, but he forces them because Duke needs them and he hadn’t been able to give Duke words before.

The door behind Nathan swings open and he turns to find Audrey Parker standing there in her sweats. Her hair is down and she’s wearing his t-shirt and he is ruining her lazy afternoon off.

“Nathan?” her voice comes out two octaves higher than usual in her concern.

Nathan has heard that tone before. Has heard her say his name just like that with a piece of wood sticking out of his side and the world going dim at the edges.

It hits him all in a rush. He’d died too.

It hadn’t seemed real at the time. Nathan gives a slightly hysterical laugh because it hadn’t been real, had it. The next thing he’s aware of is Duke hauling him to his feet, Audrey’s small, soft hands on his face.

“Nathan, breathe,” she’s saying and Duke is rubbing his back and Nathan has no idea how he turned into such a fucking mess. He sucks in a breath of air, and then another, chokes on the third and has to turn his head and cough. Audrey wipes away a tear that escapes his left eye.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Duke says, and the world lurches.

Nathan stumbles, his legs feel like rubber. The gravel crunching beneath his shoes is too loud in his ears.

Audrey gets the front door open and before he knows it Duke is depositing him on the couch. Nathan grabs his hand before he can go any further, dragging Duke down beside him. Duke goes without complaint, pressed all along Nathan’s side from hip to thigh to knee. Every inch of Nathan’s body feels cold except for the parts that are touching Duke.

Audrey perches on the coffee table in front of him and gets her hands on his cheeks. Her hands are warm too. So warm. Nathan closes his eyes against the worry in Audrey’s.

“It’s okay,” she’s saying, “you’re okay,” she sounds like maybe she’s been repeating this for a while now, Nathan isn’t sure.

Suddenly the words are there, piling up on his tongue and he’s got to get them out. Got to tell her what happened. Has to say the words.

“I remembered, Parker,” is all he manages to croak out but it’s enough. Audrey’s mantra of reassurance stops, her forehead creases and then her face pales.

“Oh, Nathan,” she whispers, her own eyes filling with sudden tears.

“Could somebody clue me in here?” Duke interrupts.

“Duke…” Nathan tries to answer him but he still can’t get the fucking words out.

Audrey leaves one hand on Nathan’s cheek and grabs Duke’s fingers with the other. She rests their joined hands on Nathan’s knee. He can feel when she squeezes Duke’s hand.

“On one of the days that reset, Duke…” she stops and Nathan can see the deep shuddering breath she takes then, remembers her tears on the street.

 _Woulda been something to see,_ Nathan hears himself saying, saying to _Audrey_ who’d cried and clung to Duke and raged at the universe just hours before. What a callous dick he’d been.

“You- you died, Duke,” she explains quietly.

Nathan sees Duke’s expression cloud over. He opens his mouth to deny it and then recognition lights his eyes.

Duke blanches, physically recoils.

“I… I got hit by a car,” he says and the words lilt up at the end like it’s a question, as if after all the things they’ve struggled through the idea of something so mundane as being hit by a car could kill him is ridiculous. It is. It is ridiculous.

“It came around the corner. The old guy driving he looked scared. I… I didn’t even have a chance to move,” Duke recounts the incident without inflection, as if he’d watched it happen to someone else. As if it’s a story he’s heard. Nathan knows just how that feels, the memory that just suddenly appeared.

 _When was the last time we closed downtown?_ Such a benign question for how hard it knocked Nathan on his ass.

 Duke’s head comes up now, he looks at Audrey, understanding dawning. “You hugged me,” he accuses, “early one morning. I had no idea why. It was another reset. After that one. You hugged me like you needed it. I was so surprised it took me a second to hug you back. It felt like you needed _me_ which I thought was crazy at the time.”

Audrey nods, the tears in her eyes making them even bluer than usual. Nathan remembers seeing them look like that when she begged him not to go downtown after the day reset on his death. He knows how Duke is feeling; it is heady to know you mean so much to Audrey Parker.

“I always need you, you idiot,” she scoffs though her voice wobbles a little at the end. “Both of you,” she adds, stroking her thumb across Nathan’s cheekbone.

Nathan closes his eyes and he is not adrift with only his mind for company.  He feels the warmth of Duke’s body pressed all along his side, the gentle pressure of Audrey’s thumb on his cheek. He is grounded in the here and now, his collar is scratchy against his neck. He tries to take deep slow breaths, feels his rib cage expand and his lungs fill.

“You died,” Nathan says dropping his forehead into the juncture of Duke’s neck and shoulder, his voice cracks, the words half complaint, half lament.

“Well, clearly it didn’t take so it’s okay,” Duke jokes.

Audrey makes a broken little sound.

Nathan’s eyes shoot open. He sits up to glare at him. “Not okay, Duke,” Nathan swears, getting his hand on the nape of Duke’s neck and shaking him to underscore his point. “So far from okay,” Nathan says.

Duke’s eyes go wide as he sees how much Nathan means it. His expression goes from joking to contrite but before he can apologize Audrey is speaking.

“I gave you that rent check. You wouldn’t have been downtown if not for me,” Audrey confesses, her voice quavering. Duke turns his head to stare at Audrey in horror. She looks from him to Nathan. “I asked you for your help. You wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t either. You spent your last moments giving me a description of the guy and the car.”

“Parker,” Nathan begins just as Duke gets out “Audrey.”

“And I couldn’t do anything,” she talks right over them, words coming faster and faster now, “I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t change it, I just had to hope and pray that the day reset,” she says voice breaking.

Nathan and Duke reach for her at the same time.

She goes easily, folding across Duke’s lap, her legs over Nathan’s, but the words don’t stop.

“Chris died too in one of those resets. Because of me. I couldn’t keep him safe either.”

Her chin trembles but the words don’t stop.

“I couldn’t fix anything and then it was over and I failed you. All of you. One after the other, right up until Anson Shumway stepped into the street. And after? How could I explain that? How could I put into words what had happened when none of you remembered it? When all I could feel was the three of you dying under my hands even though it wasn’t real?” her breath hitches and Nathan and Duke wrap themselves around her.

Nathan remembers how she’d kept it together, hadn’t fallen apart even when explaining how she’d been awake for five days and had watched someone, a friend, die on each of those. Her arms twine around them both, holding them to her and Nathan is, as always, surprised by the strength of her grip.

“It was real, Parker,” he murmurs against her hair and she goes stock still at his words, only the finest tremble betraying her. “Was real and we lived it,” he affirms even as a sob works its way out of her chest.

 “And you’ve been carrying it alone,” Duke realizes, rocking them all gently, “never even got to grieve it,” he sympathizes as the second one breaks free. Her shoulders shake and she makes a low, keening sound that is long overdue.

 “S’okay,” Nathan croons, “there’s time now.” God, there is, there is time now. Nathan has no idea how they got so lucky. Nathan scoots even closer so he can stroke his hand up and down her back. His fingers feel big and clumsy against the delicate bones of her spine, the wings of her shoulder blades shake and shake and shake.

 “We’ve got you, Audrey,” Duke says huskily and kisses the crown of her head. When Nathan looks up Duke’s quick brown eyes are wet. They sit, heads leaned together, arms around each other while the storm passes.

“You didn’t fail us, Parker,” Nathan tells her long moments later, stroking his hand along her calf gently through the soft material of her sweat pants. “I know I said it before but I mean it. You saved us, Audrey.”

“You saved us,” Duke repeats against her hair.

“You kept things changing, you broke the cycle. Could’ve been stuck in that day forever if you hadn’t managed to change it all.”

“That’s just it,” she hiccups, “I didn’t. Anson Shumway changed it.”

“Because you were here, Parker. Because you figured out what was going on. He chose to end things on his terms to save his daughter. You don’t get to take other people’s choices on you, Audrey,” Nathan assures her because somebody has to. She's lived with that on her conscience since then? He's horrified.

 “You wanna feel bad about something feel bad how you sicced Chris Brody on me,” Duke jokes and Audrey gives an incredulous wet laugh.

 “I shared my waffle secret with him! I told him I needed him!” Duke protests, but he rocks the three of them gently side to side, doesn’t let either of them go.

 “You were pretty pathetic with your school girl crush,” Nathan agrees, keeping his own arms around the other two. He can feel them breathing, feel Duke’s heart beating.

 “Made you jealous didn’t it?” Duke asks suddenly, eyes creasing with mischief.

 “What? No!” Nathan sputters.

 Audrey laughs, a stronger laugh.

 “You’re crazy,” Nathan adds to make her smile wider.

 “Please,” Duke scoffs. “Explain to me then why you felt the need to caress my jaw so I wouldn’t look at him anymore?”

 “What? I heard nothing of this!” Audrey gasps and her words are only a little shaky.

 “He was telling me if I didn’t look at Chris I wouldn’t be affected by his Trouble.”

 “Which he found out the hard way a couple weeks before,” Audrey puts in her smile turning devious, making Duke chuckle.

 “I was already turning back to him, there was no need for him to,” Duke strokes a line down Audrey’s jaw with his index finger, turning her to face him. He waits a beat, eyes dipping to her lips and back to meet her gaze. Then he pulls away and waggles his eyebrows at Nathan.

 “Aww, Nathan, you made moony eyes at Duke,” Audrey teases.

 Nathan rolls his eyes but can’t bring himself to pull away from his partners. He just shakes his head in disgust.

 Audrey puts her hand around his neck and pulls his head down. She lays tender kisses across his swollen eyelids, cards soothing fingers through his hair. Nathan feels foggy headed and dried out now, he can imagine Audrey must feel the same. He gives Duke’s shoulder a squeeze and drops a kiss on Audrey’s forehead.

 “Need to go,” Nathan makes an aborted gesture towards his mouth and pries himself up off the couch.

He brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face in the bathroom then stands with his hands braced on the countertop staring in the mirror. His eyes are red and his hands are still trembling.

He closes his eyes and takes a slow shuddering breath.

Duke slides his arms around him from behind, rests his chin on his shoulder.

“You okay?” Duke’s voice is as gentle as his embrace.

Nathan nods jerkily, leaning back into Duke’s warmth.

‘How…” Duke’s stumbles over the words that come out husky with emotion, “how did you die in the day that reset?” he asks gingerly, as if afraid he’s stepping on a mine.

Nathan waves a hand dismissing the concern. “Same car accident. The old guy hit the barricades we put up and a piece splintered off, hit me right here,” Nathan presses hard on the spot, he can feel his own fingers digging into his skin where before he’d felt nothing, not the shard of wood, not the blood staining his shirt and Parker’s hands, nothing.

Duke shivers and drops his own hand to cover the spot.

“Didn’t hurt,” Nathan assures him.

“So not the point, Nate.”

 Nathan rolls his eyes but turns and kisses the smooth skin of Duke’s cheekbone, the unblemished edge of his eyebrow where the scratches had been on that awful day that never was. Nathan is hit with a wave of gratitude. He is so grateful none of that took. He’s so grateful Duke is here to annoy and exasperate and love him.

 “Duke, I-”  he begins and stutters to a halt, a wealth of words piling up behind his teeth: _I forgive you. I missed you. I was wrong._

 Duke does what he does best though, he takes one look at Nathan and gets him, gets everything.

 He presses his forehead to Nathan’s. “I know,” Duke says quietly.

 And Nathan thinks with relief that maybe this time he does. Words have always been cheap for Duke who can spin a lie at the drop of a hat, maybe it’s actions that matter anyway. It was always Duke’s actions that gave him away after all. The way he helped, and came back, _kept_ coming back. It was too long before Nathan started hearing those over the words Duke had been saying. It’s not too late now though and Nathan is so very grateful.

 Nathan turns and cups Duke’s jaw, kissing him deep and fierce, like he can make Duke _feel_ the words his tongue is too clumsy to say.

 Duke makes a startled sound and then he’s kissing back.

 It’s nothing like kissing Audrey, it never is. Kissing Audrey is like trying to climb a waterfall, slippery and exhilarating and you have to be careful how you hold on. Kissing Duke is going over whitewater in a raft, sometimes you just hold on for the ride, sometimes you can steer where you’re going. Duke is bigger, solid, Nathan doesn’t worry about hurting him. His mouth is wider, and his stubble scratches against Nathan’s chin. Sometimes Duke is as aggressive as Audrey, kissing like there can be a winner, sometimes Duke is a fucking artiste, kissing Nathan into breathless arousal, lighting up his senses with just his mouth.

 Today, Duke is receptive, accepting Nathan’s kisses like they’re valuable, like fine wine, to be savored. He tilts his head as Nathan licks into his mouth. He tastes like bourbon and salt and he inhales sharply when Nathan sucks on his tongue. His hair is soft and falling out of the ponytail so Nathan tugs it free, gets his hands on Duke’s hips and pushes him back against the wall of the bathroom.

 Nathan tugs Duke’s shirt up and over his shoulders in one smooth motion, remembering how jealous he was of those shoulders when they were teenagers and Duke started filling out before he did. He doesn’t waste time stroking his hands along Duke’s neck, sucking marks into his skin just the way Duke likes. Nathan will never forget that first morning after, how hot it was watching Duke press his fingers to the bruises Nathan and Audrey had left. Nathan sucks a kiss over Duke’s clavicle, making him whine and then drops to his knees, mouthing down the thin line of hair that leads to Duke’s belt and over the bulge beneath his fly.

 “Nate,” Duke grits out, soft and breathy, hands tugging gently at Nathan’s hair. “Slow down,” he chuckles softly but Nathan is going right over the rapids now, his fingers flicking at the buttons of Duke’s pants, revelling in the return of his quick dexterity, just another thing he appreciates about having his touch back. He gets the pants open and noses over the soft cotton of Duke’s underwear. He can feel Duke half hard already, smell him - musky and dark overlaid with the sandalwood of his body wash. It makes Nathan’s breath quicken, his heart pound.

 Duke is here, alive, and Nathan can make him _feel_ this, feel _good_ and _loved_ and _wanted_.

 Nathan bites gently at the ridge of Duke’s hip and Duke drops his head back against the wall with a groan and a loud thunk.

 A second later Audrey’s footsteps pound down the hall.

 She stops in the doorway and Nathan can see just what they look like in the mirror on the opposite wall; Duke’s head tipped back against the wall, Nathan on his knees before him. Duke’s lips are kiss swollen, his hair a mess and eyes half-lidded. Nathan’s eyes are startled and red rimmed, his hands clamped possessively on Duke’s hips. The bulge of Duke’s erection tenting the grey briefs is clearly visible through the open fly of his jeans.

 Audrey is breathing out a sigh of relief even as Duke’s eyes are fluttering open at her entrance. He blinks as if the world is fuzzy and Nathan feels a shot of pride and arousal course through him that he did that, he made Duke Crocker unable to focus.

 “I heard a thump. Thought I was gonna have to referee or something,” Audrey jokes but Nathan knows it wasn’t that long ago it wouldn’t have been a joke.

 “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t mind if you got in the middle anyway, Parker,” he says going for flirtatious but ruins the delivery tripping over his words

 Audrey laughs anyway and it pushes some of the sadness from her eyes.

 Nathan gets to his feet with a creak of abused knees. He and Duke hold out their hands to Audrey and draw her in between them.  Duke kisses her first, long fingers threading into her hair, cupping the back of her head with such tenderness it brings a lump to Nathan’s throat. He watches them move together for long moments, just drinking them in, these two people who he loves beyond measure, who have saved each other and him and the whole damn town. He gets to have them like this. He gets to hold onto them. He could be dead half a dozen times over, Duke and Audrey too, but he’s not. They’re not. Nathan shakes his head, he is one lucky son of a gun. He isn’t ever going to take that for granted.

 He drops his mouth to the nape of Audrey’s neck. He follows the line of her jaw, traces the whorl of her ear. She shivers and pushes back against him. The curve of her behind presses against his erection and it lights up Nathan’s senses even through the thick material of his jeans. He can feel her, feel them and it is so good.

 “I vote for relocating somewhere with a mattress,” Duke suggests, rocking his hips into Audrey’s pressing them back into Nathan’s.

 “Motion seconded,” Audrey agrees breathlessly.

Audrey and Duke get him down the hall in a flurry of kisses and hands touching and stroking. By the time they get to the bed Nathan is naked, the sheets cool against his back and Duke is pressing him down into the mattress with his full weight. He’s heavy but Nathan doesn’t want him to move. He can _feel_ Duke the warmth and weight, the rasp of his leg hair against Nathan’s calf, the softness of his hair against Nathan’s ear where he’s got his head turned kissing Audrey. Nathan’s hands cup Duke’s behind, rocking up into him so their cocks rub along each other caught between their bellies and it’s heat and friction and makes Nathan whine through his nose.

Audrey laughs and moves to kiss him instead, wriggling a lube slick hand between them to palm their cockheads, thumb stroking along the underside of Nathan’s. Nathan flashes to Audrey’s eyes so full of panic and pain at Duke’s death, the wary relief on the day after his own death how she’d stared across the station at him like she was drinking in the sight of him. That had felt so odd in the moment. He gets it now. He slips an arm around her waist and drags her in between him and Duke.

It’s too much, he knows it’s too much, but for a few long moments they stay that way, and Nathan can feel the weight and heat and _presence_ of his partners all around him, grounding him. He closes his eyes as Audrey strokes a hand through his hair and Duke kisses beneath his ear and gives a whole body shudder as the panic roaring in his chest finally, finally ebbs.

Duke shifts them to their sides and they pin Audrey between them. Nathan kisses her eyelids and strokes his hand down Duke’s smooth flank. Three pairs of legs tangle together until it’s hard to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. The frantic kisses of the bathroom are forgotten now. Everything is slow and soft, a gentle slide of lips as they share breath between them, tender touches from warm hands. They simply rock together, not barreling toward a finish line anymore but cherishing this moment, this moment of safety and reassurance, luxuriating in the feeling of simple connection.

 Nathan doesn’t know when he falls asleep. All he knows is when he wakes it is hours later. The room is dark but there are still two heartbeats echoing his own. He finds Duke’s quick brown eyes watching him in the dark. Nathan ghosts his fingers across Duke’s brow and whispers “I’m sorry,” into the darkness without even thinking about it. Something in his chest unclenches, eases when the words are past his lips.

Duke’s eyes soften and he reaches out to catch Nathan’s hand. “Nate…”

“I forgive you,” comes out easier than he expected it to.

“I know, Nate,” Duke affirms, though there is a suspicious sheen in his eyes. “I’ve known it for a long while,” Duke’s voice is rough with sleep and emotion.

Nathan grips his fingers, hard. Duke needed the words, Nathan realizes. Even though he tried to brush them off, probably because he knows how hard it is for Nathan to say them. Nathan feels the thing in his chest crack wide open at the thought. Words might be cheap for Duke but Duke knows they’re not for Nathan and it means something to him to hear them. It makes the next words the easiest yet.

“Missed you, when you were gone,” Nathan confesses and he means _all_ the times Duke was gone. “More ‘n just those years on the Rouge,” the words are just falling out now, quick and hard on his throat. “All the time you were home and we were so far apart you might as well have been gone, all the times I said I hated you, all the times you d…” Nathan chokes on the word, can’t go on, but Duke rescues him with a kiss.

“I’m here Nate. I’m not going anywhere,” he promises against Nathan’s lips and Nathan practically chokes on his relief.

When they part Duke lays back down and closes his eyes, his thumb stroking across Nathan’s fingers. He’s smiling, small and quiet, like he doesn’t even realize it’s there and Nathan feels something in him settle. Audrey makes a soft sound through her nose where she’s sprawled across his chest, it might have been a sleep noise, might have been a laugh. Nathan rolls his eyes but presses a kiss to her hair. He sleeps, filled with gratitude for this second chance.


End file.
